


just to find a way to you

by TrasBen



Series: 'Till Then [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Disabled Character, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Papyrus knows this, Red pretends to be an asshole, Red's too hard on himself, Us Against the World trope, Zombie Apocalypse, really he's just soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25744363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrasBen/pseuds/TrasBen
Summary: Red was on the brink of falling down when the world started to fall apart. For some reason, the apocalypse was just the kick start he needed to wake up. Literally.Now he just needs to stay awake while he treks across the country with the help of a cheerful nurse to find his brother.(1,000 word chapters)
Relationships: CherryBlossom - Relationship, Papyrus/Sans (Undertale)
Series: 'Till Then [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867498
Comments: 14
Kudos: 25





	1. just dandy

“Are your arms getting tired?” Papyrus asks. “It’s been a few hours.” His voice is chipper and caring, just like the rest of him. Red still isn’t convinced this isn’t an elaborate plot meant to give him hope then rip it away at the last second.

Red could laugh. And he does. “shut up and keep walking, beanpole.”

_Is Red tired?_

That’s just the sort of thing Papyrus would ask, though. Everything about him is designed selflessly. Ever since he picked Red’s useless ass up for the first time and hadn’t put him down.

Although, that’s only half true. Papyrus puts Red down sometimes, when it’s time to sleep or eat or when Red’s ‘arms get tired’. Even now, as the taller skeleton lets Red hitch a ride on his back, he’s more worried about the stout skelton than himself.

It _has_ been hours. And Papyrus has been holding Red the entire time.

_Is_ Red _tired?_

A year ago Red would’ve laughed at the idea of someone like Papyrus being real. And, well, he’s still laughing now, but it’s for a different reason. Almost a little fond. He won’t admit it though.

“Alright!” Papyrus stops in place and Red startles when the tall skeleton squats down and Red tumbles off of his back. For a second, Red thinks that _this is it,_ and Papyrus has finally gotten tired of his bullshit. 

_(It’s about time.)_

But he doesn’t leave. Papyrus kneels in front of Red and leans in close. “I’m guessing that since you’re being grumpy, you _are_ in fact tired.”

Red would like to point out that they’re in the middle of a suburban road and that lingering for too long would definitely spell their death, but he leans back instead, laying on the hot asphalt stubbornly.

“i’m just dandy.” he insists sarcastically, “my legs are screwed up, ‘n’case you forgot. my arms work just fuckin’ _fine_.”

“That doesn’t mean they can’t get fatigued.” Papyrus scolds, “Having 1 HP means - “ And that’s where Red has to stop him because if he has to hear _one more lecture_ about what it means to have 1 HP he’s going to scream and alert every goddamned braindead fucker in the neighborhood of their location.

“blah blah blah, sure thing, my arms feel fine, let’s go before you get us both killed… unless you’ve finally decided that you’re better off without me?”

Papyrus frowns in that concerned way he always does when Red mentions being left behind. It’s a little manipulative to bring it up right now to change the topic, but it gets the job done.

“I wish you wouldn’t always say that.” The tall skeleton sighs. He picks Red up and slings him over his shoulder like the shorter is potato sack royalty. Gently.

The position isn’t super comfortable, but Red can admit to himself that it’s easier on his arms while leaving Papyrus with at least one free hand. Plus, he can watch Papyrus’ back like this, which makes him feel a little less like the dead weight that he is.

Especially since half of his body _is_ dead weight. His legs look just fine, but Red can’t feel a damn thing down from his hips. Hasn’t been able to since he started the perilous process of Falling Down, but that isn’t anybody else’s business.

The simple fact is that Red would be D-E-A-D dead without his companion to carry him around. The very same nurse who would bring him water when he woke up from one of his mini comas, _The Great, Papyrus._

Except his last name wasn’t really ‘The Great’, he’d just somehow gotten permission to have it printed on his name tag.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Papyrus mentions idly.

Red scoffs. “ _tibia-_ nest, i’m thinking about how much i’d like a bath and my bed right now.”

“I think…” Papyrus continues as if Red hadn’t said anything, let alone a shitty joke. Red tries to be annoyed but he really can’t. “That you need to be reminded of your worth!”

_Fuck._

Red groans. “no no no, i swear on my left hand i’m good,” He tries to bargain. It’s no use, though. Papyrus has already made up his mind.

“Repeat after me, Ahem, ‘I am kind!’” Papyrus starts.

Red chooses to remain silent out of spite.

Papyrus insistently pats him on the back a few times and repeats, “‘I am kind!’”

He manages to hold out for a few more moments, but another round of pats and his willpower crumbles. Red’s too far gone for this shit again. “i am kind.” He grumbles.

“... ‘I am smart!’”

“i am smart.” Red drones.

“‘I am important!’”

“i am important.” There’s a note of finality in his voice. He’s done.

“Very good! I actually got that quote from one of my favorite movies!...” Papyrus rants on about the plot of the movie and Red doesn’t have the heart to remind him that he knows this because it’s not the first time he’s asked the stout skeleton to ‘repeat after him’, nor is it the first time he’s talked about the movie itself.

Hell, Red had even watched the movie with Papyrus one night when he wasn’t busy with other patients, before the world ended. 

There wasn’t a lot to do in a ward meant for patients who were Fallen or in the process of Falling Down like Red.

He'd just woken up a few hours prior and was terrified of falling back asleep. Papyrus comforted him and streamed the movie on his phone by Red’s bedside. He’d talked through the entire thing but Red hadn’t minded.

The memory brings a crooked smile to his sharp maw.

“... However, I think another exercise is needed!”

The smile drops.

“Now, Red, tell me about some of your good qualities!”

“i have no redeeming qualities.” Red replies.

“I highly doubt that!”

… 

… Red sighs. 

The things he does for this beanpole. “... i’m funny.” He says shortly.

“Debatable, but go on!”

“i’m good with magic, i…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides behind hands*
> 
> yes i know staying at home has me posting a new fic every other week!!! my brainy brain literally can't stop pumping out aus!!!!!!
> 
> also i've loved this ship for a long time but have never written it....so im gonna have some fun with it! if you're reading this and haven't checked out the second work in this series.... i'd implore you to do so. it's the other side to this coin and features another ship i haven't been able to write yet!!! spiceyhoney!!!
> 
> also i've never written for a disabled character, nor am i physically disabled, so if you have any tips/corrections for me, i'd love to hear them!  
> 


	2. not that type of magazine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> red's never been particularly lucky, but maybe the universe is trying to make it up to him. somehow

The thing about the apocalypse is that there’s actually quite a lot of places to stay. That is, if you’re brave enough.

Point is: Red and Papyrus have their pick of the oysters, or however the saying goes.

However, the whole oyster business gets a little _fishy_ when one person in the duo can’t walk and the other is a living flagpole. Truthfully, Papyrus probably isn’t the best suited monster around for dealing with brain dead humans.

He’s not stealthy. _At all_.

As much as Red hates to admit to being an asset, it’s honestly (probably) _(maybe)_ for the best that he’d lugged Red out of that hospital with him when things started to go south. Red’s way better at sneaking around and getting his grubby little mitts on what he shouldn’t.

So. Mollusks aside, the two of them are actually rather picky when it comes to bunking up for the night.

Unfortunately, he and Papyrus are still stuck in suburbia. The winding city roads and eventually taken them to an almost as formidable concrete jungle. It’s ripe for taking up resources, but it’s also full of zombies. 

Lurking in any building could be a small hoard.

Families who had locked themselves in during quarantine, only to either succumb to the disease or eventually wander out in hopes of connecting with other survivors.

(That never went well, if the small packs of rotted humans wandering through the streets were any indication.)

Red urges Papyrus to play it safe, and it’s rare that his companion complains. He obliges when Red asks for full walk-arounds of the houses. Red checks for broken windows or busted locks. Peaks inside the windows to look for barricades, curtains and any suspicious shadows inside.

They skip past three houses Red doesn’t feel right about before the sun starts to set and they finally find one suitable.

All Red has to do is pat Papyrus twice on the back firmly to be set down in front of the door. Even without the use of his legs, he’s right in line to get at the lock. It holds tight when he jiggles the knob, so he reaches into his pocket.

Papyrus watches the street while Red works, tapping his foot nervously and twiddling with the straps of their travel bag. 

The only sound on the empty street is the dull scrape of metal on metal as Red fiddles his lockpick with the keyhole and grunts. It takes a minute, but Red eventually manages to get the door to open.

It swings out silently, like it’d just been oiled.

Red makes a low noise in his throat and shares a look with Papyrus.

He doesn’t struggle when Papyrus picks him back up and settles him on his back, just holds onto Papyrus’ shoulders and leans forward to get a good look at the inside. 

It’s clean.

_Too clean_ , really, even if Papyrus would argue there’s no such thing. Boss wouldn't really complain about it, either, but Red’s got a spidey sense that rivals Toby Maguire’s and Andrew Garfield’s put together.

Something about this place makes his hackles raise, but it’s getting dark outside and they can’t afford to be caught out past light.

When they get inside, Papyrus dutifully locks the door behind them.

Red takes the little break to study the room they’re in. The entryway splits into a dining room and the living room, both of which look like they could be on the cover of some sort of interior design magazine put on Red’s bedside at the hospital. Not so much as a pillow out of place or a stain on the carpet.

Either he’s insane or there’s nobody home. 

“Well,” Papyrus whispers to Red cheerfully, “This is a nice change of pace!”

Red scoffs a little and bumps his skull against Papyrus’. “ain’t so sure just yet, let’s do a sweep.”

Papyrus takes Red around the house so he can knock on doors and study the way the beds are made up upstairs. Even the bathrooms are shiny - there aren’t even any toothpaste stains on the mirrors.

When they're double checked every single room, Red finally admits there’s nothing amiss. 

… And he definitely does _not_ pout when Papyrus leaves him on the couch to close the blinds and pull the curtains over the windows. Red shoos him off when Papyrus offers to move him to a bedroom, telling him to go raid the pantry or whatever.

Red makes _himself_ useful and grabs out their candles from the travel bag. It’s easy to light them with a spark of magic and has the advantage of not needing to worry about carrying around a lighter.

He’s setting them up with a flick of his wrist and a bit more magic when Papyrus pops into the living room holding a box. He’s grinning from ear to metaphorical ear as he shakes it, revealing that it’s quite full. “I found granola bars!”

“nice.” Red tells him. “it’s a fuckin’ feast.”

This house is like a damn dream come true. It’s irritating.

Red has never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he sure as hell gets suspicious when it’s wooden, eighty feet tall and hallow.

He’d never make the mistake of mistaking Papyrus for naive, but some part of Red is itching to scold him for acting so happy-go-lucky about finding a place like this. It’s like some sort of instinctual habit to remind the other that complacency is deadly and settling is for idiots.

(Heh. Five years out of the Underground and he still can’t get that out of his bones.)

Papyrus takes a seat next to Red on the couch, startling him out of his thoughts. He pulls his long legs up, criss-cross-applesauce style, and starts to open the box. “I’d say!” He replies, “These are the ones with little chocolate chips.”

Red makes some sort of noise of acknowledgement and looks down at the box.

It’s been awhile since he’s had chocolate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is it so bad that i just want to give them nice things. only nice things for cherryblossom i said ONLY nice things for them!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> alllllllllso here's my [tumbly](https://beanniebenn.tumblr.com/) ... if you wanna ask questions about any of my boys iiiiiii will be happy to answer them!


End file.
